MESSAGE 1998
by Wario the TableMan
Summary: Recorded by Kevin Lamar; circa A. D. 1998. Do not discard this document.


"Banjo, where is your life?" asked Kazooie, pondering pieces of packaged polymers.

Banjo looked down at the life before him. "Blimey..." he whispered with whispering wisps. The gentle soothing recollection of his defiant trace wisdom ached his melding soul like the iron in the alleyway. He took out his silver knife heirloom and carved his initials into the mighty oak before him.

Kazooie studied the engraved trunk. "It say 'B-K'." She shot her companion a quizzical gaze. "But you're name is not B-K, it is Banjo Bartholomew Derekson..."

"Yah, I know, Chris!" Banjo said grumpily as he boarded the X-Tornado and cranked up some Lynyrd Skynyrd on the radio. He revved up like a running whale and shot into the skies.

"He is like a rocket bear..." observed Mumbo from his shaman perch made only for the best shaman in all game.

"I think it's gonna be a long, long time..." eltoned Kazooie. She ran over to Bottles's molehill and requested important helpfulness.

"Why must you wake me?" asked the shortsighted mole.

"Goggle-boy, aid me," twittered Kazooie as she hopped on social media. Her lawnmower pic of fresh grassy plains got 108 likes.

"I can see you are understanding hope," said Bottles.

"Now teach me to spread my wings, lest I be firmly rooted on this barren wasteland!"

"Oke-doke-artichoke, my person." Bottles slowly crept out of his hill, revealing his legs were no longer rodent in quality. He now had chicken legs and the tail of a blue-tongued skink.

"Holy marshmallow sundae!" cried Kazooie as the heinous appearance caused her eyes to melt like said marshmallows and sundaes.

"I'm a simple kind of man..." said Bottles. "Mrs. B thinks this is cool because I am now a swag-lord. Would you like to subscribe to mah youtube?"

"How about you hand over the power of flight, bucko!" Kazooie growled through gritted teeth that she did not actually have because of the avian attributes accustomed to her Breegull life.

"Who do I look like? Palutena?" Bottles said as he grew eleven arms and used a twelfth to grab the birdbrain by the neck. "I wield you!"

"Why are you three Machamps crammed into one stupid root-muncher?" Kazooie coughed. She spat out a grenade and it landed in Bottle's third eye socket, which was empty due to spring cleaning.

The grenade detonated and Bottles was defeated like the Grand Canyon when the meteors of outside space did the Hustle.

Mumbo stared into the abyss that was once Bottle the Mole. "Is he unalive?" asked he.

"Nay," said Bottles as he rose from the crater in his angel outfit. "I am just rising to my ascended form!" Bottles grew a mullet. "I am now SMJ3!"

"Gnarly!" said Mumbo. He pulled out the Stevie Winwood records and beatboxed to some Higher Love.

"Bring me..." Kazooie rasped. She reached her wings into Bottles's dead coat pocket and extracted a glorious jetpack. She slung it on over her Metallica T-Shirt and flew up to the heavens. There, she met her ursine broseph on Saturn. She approached him with eyes of power.

"Kazooie, you finally came..." Banjo said saucily as he took a sinister slurp of his sauerkraut smoothie. "How about I kick your tailfeathers out of orbit?"

"I will expect that to be quite unsteezy, buckaroo!" Kazooie said with powerful authority over butt-kickin'. Flats the Flounder would have been so totes proud.

Banjo stood up from his royal blue sofa and plodded toward the red chicky-babe with his fully-loaded waffle fries. "Now you are going in the ground..."

"I am such a horrible nightmare to you, Banjo!" Kazooie squawked. "Watch as I destroy your doomed yellow-panted life!"

The two charged into one another at blinding speeds and crashed their steel noggins together like all-powerful Pachycephalosauruses. The strength of the collision was so mighty that Saturn split down the middle, tore in two, and flew off in opposite directions until the halves smashed into other planets and brought the entire Milky Way solar system to absolute ruin. It was so rad that my Uncle Kevin videotaped it with his CELLULAR DEVICE and sent it to President Calvin Coolidge.

"Very interesting, Kevin," said Calvin to the uncled one.

"Aye," Kevin nodded in affirmation. He then slid off the roof and broke his precious toenail.

**THE END**

**of the universe...**

**CEASE YOUR POWER BANJO!**

**BLESS KAZOOIE...**


End file.
